


find my lungs empty

by boxesofflowers, Eeyoreneedsahug



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Caring Even Bech Næsheim, Hospitals, Isak is stubborn, M/M, Sick Isak Valtersen, Sickfic, isak's weak immune system, worried Even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 15:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13079991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxesofflowers/pseuds/boxesofflowers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eeyoreneedsahug/pseuds/Eeyoreneedsahug
Summary: Isak is stubborn. Usually that’s a good thing, but when it comes to his health...it’s a different story. Luckily, Even is by his side.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> More sickfic! :) (It's been a year since our first work!!!)
> 
> Title from Sleeping Sickness by City and Colour

“You’re sure you’ll be ok?” Even asks, grabbing his jacket from a pile on one of the dining chairs, rummaging in his pocket for his keys. 

“Yeah,” Isak mumbles back from his place underneath the comforter. Even ruffles his hair, and Isak gives him a small smile back. He tilts his head back like he does when he wants a kiss and Even plants one on his cheek. He frowns slightly, laying his palm on Isak’s forehead. He lingers there for a moment before stepping back, patting his pockets.

“Really sure?” He asks, stopping in the doorway, fiddling with his keys. Isak rolls his eyes, pushing himself up on his elbows.

“I have a like, half a cold. You’re already late for work. I’m fine,” he says, but Even doesn’t make a move to leave. He sighs, biting his lip.

“I can come back if you need me,” he says. “Really!” he protests, seeing the look on Isak’s face. “I can. You’re more important than any day production-assisting for a TV show that’s probably gonna get canceled anyway.”

“That’s not even a word,” Isak laughs softly.

“Production-assistant-ing? It is!” Even argues. “But seriously, if you need me, promise you’ll call,” he says, looking Isak in the eye. Isak tries to meet his gaze.

“I will,” he says quietly. 

“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay?” Even asks one last time, even though he already has the front door open. 

“100%. Now go. You’re late,” Isak says. 

“Love you, Iss,” Even says, blowing him a kiss. 

“Love you too, Ev,” he answers, pretending to catch the kiss even though it’s insanely cheesy. Once the door closes, he immediately regrets not asking Even to stay. Then again, he doesn’t really think he’s sick, which was Even’s whole reason to stay home in the first place.

At worst he has a headache. Even though, for some reason, is convinced that Isak is coming down with the plague. Granted, there’s been a nasty stomach flu going around for a few weeks which both Jonas and Sana had, so Even does have some reason to think that Isak’s headache and lack of appetite are the precursors to some serious illness.

To be fair, his headache is fucking awful. Ungodly. And he hasn’t been hungry for a few days. But it’s not like that’s a big deal.

He gets about 20 minutes into the second season of Stranger Things and halfway through the piece of toast Even made him for breakfast before he’s asleep. He wakes up in a daze, shivering, and curses. Even likes to sleep with the window open and he must’ve forgotten to shut it. Fuck, his head still hurts too. He’s probably just dehydrated.

He pushes himself up from the small nest of blankets and pillows, the cold air sending a spike of chills through his chest. 

Fuck. The window’s closed. He’s not sick though. He just...had too many blankets on.

He shuffles over to the kitchen, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, the short walk feeling a lot longer than normal. He pulls open the fridge, rubbing his sore eyes with his wrist.

He’s definitely just dehydrated. He grabs a water bottle, stumbling back to bed, struggling to keep his eyes open long enough to get a few shaky sips of water before falling back asleep.

When he wakes up he somehow feels even worse than before. The light has changed but not too much. It isn’t dark yet. The room is a little blurry, his head still aches, and his whole body feels too warm. His stomach feels...bad. Really bad.

Fuck. He’s sick. He should call Even. Or at least text him. Then again, he’s been insisting for a few days now that he’s fine, and call him stubborn but he doesn’t exactly want to give in. Plus, no matter how much Even says it doesn’t matter that he misses work, Isak knows that isn’t true. Even worked his ass off to get his PA job in the first place and people in television production aren’t exactly known for being understanding. 

He can hold it together until Even gets home. 

He turns the TV back on but realizes pretty quickly that the sound is making his head throb. But, despite his now unignorable exhaustion, he can’t seem to fall asleep, so it’s either lie motionless in bed staring at the wall, or half-watch Stranger Things. He ends up settling for a pounding headache over time alone with his thoughts. 

He nibbles on the leftover toast from breakfast, but the food only makes his stomach ache worse. The voice at the back of his head is screaming for him to just call Even. Fuck, he promised Even he would. But there’s this feeling, deep in his chest, that’s keeping him from picking up the phone. Fear. Of what, he isn’t sure.

He manages to finish off the water bottle, which gives him a little rush of confidence. He can take care of himself. 

As minutes turn into hours he’s pretty positive he’s running some kind of fever - he’s way too cold, despite being wrapped up in Even’s sweatshirt and all the blankets on their bed. Plus, it’s getting harder to think straight.

God, what is Even going to say when he sees him like this?

It doesn’t take very long to find out.

“Hey baby,” his voice calls from the hallway, and it snaps Isak out of his half-conscious fever nap. He pushes himself up in bed, his arms shaking a lot more than they should be. Even stops cold when he sees the younger boy. “Sorry, did I wake you up?” Isak shakes his head, the motion making the world spin around him. Even puts down his bag, shrugging off his coat. He seems preoccupied - maybe he won’t notice how terrible Isak looks. “How was your day? Sorry I couldn’t stay home but I think it was for the best I went to work anyway. It was really busy. One of our locations was double booked and -” He stops tidying up the small dining table, looking up to meet Isak’s gaze. He frowns. “You feel ok?”

“Fine,” Isak chokes out, though he doesn’t know why.

“Ok,” Even says, though clearly not convinced. “I’m sorry, I know I’ve been annoying about the whole...stomach flu thing, but I mean - we both know you have a shitty immune system. I was positive you were gonna catch it,” he says, walking into the kitchen. Isak can hear him filling up the electric kettle. “You want tea?” He asks, and Isak shakes his head before realizing that Even can’t actually see him from the kitchen.

“No...m’good,” he murmurs.

“Are you sure?” Even asks, surprised. Tea had become something they always do together when they’ve had a long day apart. They always make tea and talk about their days. It started off as joke after Sana had told the story of Isak’s warm tap water tea (“I was just being petty! I’m a scientist. I know how to fucking boil water!”), but over time it had grown into a tradition, They’d kept it, even as they’d moved out of their first apartment and into a nicer one after Isak graduated and they needed to be closer to Uni and their jobs. 

“Yeah. It’s ok.”

“I was thinking today...I just want to apologize. For being so...I don’t know. Overprotective. I just...I don’t know. I don’t know. I love you.” He walks back into the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “I’m sorry. You’re clearly not actually sick. I mean...the headache is what it is -”

“It’s ok. It’s just you. I wouldn’t trade any part of you for the world. And...you may have been a bit right about how I was feeling,” Isak admits. Even stands up straight and opens his mouth to speak. “-BUT,” Isak says before Even can start talking again, “even though you love me, I love you too and want you to be able to do what you...need to do. You just have to trust me when I say I can handle something. Or that I’m ok.”

“Are you actually feeling sick? You just...didn’t call me, then?” Even asks, looking half exasperated, half crestfallen. 

“I...it just felt...I know I can bother you but...I just wanted to do something nice for you. A worry-free afternoon at work?” It comes out like a question and Isak can already tell that Even isn’t buying it. “It’s not even that bad.”

“Did you...not think I’d care?” Even asks. Isak feels like all the breath has rushed out of his lungs. 

“Fuck no. No! I just...you seemed so...and I just...you know.”

“No. I don’t know. You come...first. Always,” Even says, his voice so serious it makes Isak nervous.

“Uhhh…” He trails off.

“You do.” Even is still holding his intense stare and Isak isn’t entirely sure how to respond. 

“Thanks?” He says slowly. Even sits on the edge of the mattress.

“I love you.”

“I just didn’t want to bother you, I mean...I don’t know…” Isak mumbles.

“Did you lie to me this morning?” Even asks. Before Isak can answer, Even shakes his head. “Forget it, it’s not important. What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” Isak groans, giving in to how shitty he actually feels now that he’s not busy trying to convince Even that he’s fine. 

“Yeah?” He asks, running his hand over Isak’s forehead. It feels oddly cold and Even winces. “Fy faen. How’s your stomach?”

“Not good.”

“You haven’t thrown up or anything, right?” Isak shakes his head. “Alright. Have you eaten anything?” Even rests a hand on Isak’s stomach, making small circles. 

“Just the toast.” Even’s touches alone are enough to start to lull Isak into sleep, but he’s snapped back to reality when Even gets up, walking over to the bathroom.

“Alright. Step one: water. Step two: food. Step three: cuddling. The last one is non-negotiable,” he says, looking back over his shoulder from the doorway. “All of them are non-negotiable,” Even amends when he sees Isak begin to protest. He walks back over to the bed, the first aid kit tucked under his arm. He sits down again, and Isak immediately curls up almost in his lap. Even laughs softly, pulling out the thermometer. “Open up, I have to see how worried I should be,” he teases, and Isak rolls his eyes, but lets Even stick the small device under his tongue.

Isak closes his eyes, letting his cheek rest against Even’s palm. It’s so cool against his skin. “Tired?” Even asks quietly. Isak nods. When Even had gotten home he’d gotten a rush of energy. Now, though? He’s tired. Really tired. So –“No sleep yet, ok? I want to make sure your fever isn’t so crazy. And you eat something.”

“Don’ wanna eat,” he mumbles around the thermometer, and Even kisses his cheek.

“You have to. You haven’t eaten all day.” He says, running a hand up and down his arm.

“I’m gonna throw up.” He’s being overdramatic, he knows that, but some part of him loves being babied by Even.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I’ll make you some toast.” The thermometer beeps and Even wastes no time pulling it out, frowning when he reads the little screen. 

“What?” Isak asks, and Even presses his lips to his forehead. Isak laughs weakly. “Am I dying?” Even pulls back, letting out a little sigh, and forces a smile back.

“No, you’ll be ok. We’ll get you some tea and some toast and you’ll be good as new,” he says, but Isak can hear the genuine concern hidden underneath the joking. That’s why Isak didn’t call him. Because now Even has to force a fake smile and be tense and worried and it’s all Isak’s fault.

“You’ll make me...toasty-warm,” Isak can’t help saying. Even gives a little laugh.

“That’s the spirit!” He kisses him again, this time on the cheek, and gets up, even though Isak is clinging to him like a little kid. It seems like only a few moments go by before Even’s back with a mug of tea and a plate of toast. He sits back down next to him, and Isak lets his head rest on his shoulder. 

Maybe he could get used to this, Isak thinks as he takes a small nibble of the toast. Maybe he could get used to being taken care of. He says as much out loud. Even beams and presses a soft kiss to his temple. This is where he’s meant to be. Here. Now. In Even’s arms. He’s ok.

\---

He wakes up the next morning to their alarm clock blaring and a splitting headache. He’s about to roll over and go back to sleep when he remembers what day it is, and his heart jumps into his throat. Monday morning. He has a chemistry exam. And a two-hour lecture in calc. Fuck.

He struggles out of bed, rubbing his eyes, ignoring the way his knees threaten to buckle underneath him. He makes it only a few steps before there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Whoa, slow down,” Even’s voice says through what sounds like a layer of static. “Sorry, I forgot to shut off the alarm. I’m just-”

“No, it’s...it’s cool…” he murmurs, trying to concentrate on keeping himself upright. “What time is it?” His tongue feels heavy in his mouth.

“Uh…” Even checks his watch. He’s already dressed for work. His bag is even slung over his shoulder. “8:32.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?!” He almost shouts, and Even frowns, clearly caught off guard. Was he just planning on going to work? Leaving Isak here? Didn’t he say that Isak was more important than any of that? 

“Christ, Isak, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re obviously too sick to go to class?” He says, confused at Isak’s outburst. Isak bristles at that, though he’s not exactly sure why. He shoves Even’s shoulder weakly.

“I have an exam! I’m gonna be late now because of you,” he says, wrenching himself away from the hand on his shoulder, immediately beginning to rifle through the dresser for a pair of jeans. He hears Even let out a heavy sigh.

“You can reschedule the exam. Please, Iss. C’mon.”

“I’m not a little kid, I can handle it,” he shoots back, shrugging on a loose t-shirt. Even reaches out to touch his shoulder but he jerks away.

“Iss-”

“Don’t call me that!” He snaps, and Even rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“Isak,” he says, and the younger boy stops his frantic pacing around the apartment.

“What?”

“I thought we already had this argument. Remember? Last night?”

“This isn’t an argument!” Isak snaps.

“It feels like a fucking argument,” Even quips back, and Isak huffs out a breath, ignoring the sharp twist in his stomach. He pulls on his coat and grabs his backpack.

“Ok, fine then. We’re in an argument, ok? I’m going to class. I feel _fine_ ,” he accentuates, and Even opens his mouth to reply. Isak cuts him off before he can. “I’ll see you tonight. I love you.” he’s finished getting everything together, poised to leave. Even lets out a long breath.

“Ok. I’ll see you tonight. I love you too.”

Isak is out the door before he can think twice about what just happened. If he doesn’t book it, he’s going to miss the start of the exam at 9. So, even though the world is swimming, he practically sprints down the three flights of stairs and the next 3 blocks to the bus stop.

By the time he’s on the bus, everything is little more than a distorted haze, his head pounding, cold sweat on the nape of his neck. He can handle this. It feels like someone stuck him in a sauna - it’s almost hard to breathe.

He heaves in a trash can outside the lecture hall, managing to bring up only the little he ate last night and the two ibuprofen he forced down on the bus. Still, he tells himself, he can do this. He can make it through the day.

He slides into his normal seat next to Sana only 2 minutes before class is supposed to start, pale and shaky. His hands tremble as he takes off his coat.

“Fuck, what’s wrong with you?” Sana has never been known to tiptoe around the subject.

“I have a cold. It’s no big deal,” he mumbles, trying clumsily to get settled before the professor starts to dole out exams.

“Would’ve fooled me. Looks like you have the plague.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

\---

Isak realizes too late that he’s made an awful mistake. This wasn’t a good idea. He’d probably have been better off just taking the failing grade than trying to actually take the exam at all. The words are swimming, and he keeps finding himself rereading the same line over and over. _The given equation shows the synthesis of methanol._ He circles one of the answers at random, flipping the page. Next question. 

He feels himself starting to slip, the pounding in his head and the stifling heat the only things he can register. His eyes keep falling shut, and it only takes a few moments of half-sleep before he’s falling out of his chair, his shoulder hitting the floor hard.

He wakes up a few moments later to Sana, the proctor, and a few other concerned (but mostly judgemental) faces.

“You’re going to the hospital,” Sana says firmly as he opens his eyes. Normally he’d be protesting but his head is killing him and he just can’t-

“Everyone back to your seats!” The proctor says, and Sana grabs Isak’s arm, pulling him into a slumped, half upright position. He doesn’t need to go to the hospital. She taps at his cheek.

“M’fine,” he manages to slur, and the proctor huffs. 

“If you’re unfit to take the exam, you’ll lose one half letter grade in the course for this semester,” he says, and Sana rolls her eyes.

“Whatever. So he’ll go from an A to an A-? C’mon Isak.” She pulls him all the way up now, so he’s standing - well, not really standing. Leaning heavily on her shoulder. She turns to the proctor. “I’m finished, by the way. So I’ll be leaving too.”

Isak desperately wants to argue. To say something. Anything. But his thoughts are coming so slow and tangled, and he can’t seem to focus on anything other than how hot it is. Why is it so fucking hot in here?

Somehow they end up on the bench outside the lecture hall, Isak’s coat draped around his shoulders, his bag between his feet. He’s half hunched over, arms wrapped around his sore stomach, trying not to vomit. Sana is pacing the sidewalk in front of him, phone to her ear.

“I don’t care how busy he is, this is urgent...Sana...Sana Bakkoush...No, I’m not his girlfriend. Just give him the phone, please...Do not put me on hol- Fuck!” She takes the phone from her ear for a moment, visibly fuming, before bringing it back up. There are a few seconds of silence before she starts to speak again. “Yes, hi...It’d really be best if I could just talk to him right now...No like I said, it can’t wait. If it could wait I wouldn’t be calling, would I?...Ok...Fine, but he better, or I will keep calling until he does...Ok...Yeah, whatever.” She hangs up, glaring at the screen before shoving the phone back into her pocket. She crosses her arms, turning to Isak. Her expression softens slightly. “How could you possibly think this was a good idea?”

“I don’t need any shit from you right now,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with his wrist. He feels nausea climbing up his throat. His hands are trembling.

“Drink this,” she says, handing him a half-full water bottle from her bag, and he takes it, fumbling with the cap for an embarrassingly long time before she finally just opens it for him. “Faen, Isak.”

He takes small, cautious sips, trying not to aggravate the already violent waves of pain in his stomach.

Her phone starts to ring in her pocket, and the sound makes him wince. She answers it quickly, going back to pacing.

“...Why else would I be calling?...That’s not really important right now, is it?...He passed out in the middle of chem-...Hey, relax, he’s fine...Yes, and he seems really dehydrated so I wanted to get him to the hospital to see if -” She’s cut off in the middle of her sentence, and her pacing stops. “No, you don’t have to-...You really don’t have to take him, I can take him, I just -...Ok, ok. Jesus. Slapp av. I’ll text you the address...Alright. Bye.” She turns to Isak. “Even’s coming to pick you up.”

“Don’t bother him,” he manages to mumble, and she rolls her eyes.

“Shut up and drink that.” 

He ends up in a half sleep, resting on Sana’s shoulder, inexplicably shivering hard. Time seems to pass both incredibly slow and fast, because although every beat of his heart feels like it takes an eternity, Even is at his side in what feels like only moments.

Isak’s too tired to absorb what either Sana or Even are saying, but he feels warm, familiar hands on his shoulders and cool lips on his forehead. His limp arm gets wrapped around Even’s shoulders, but the minute he gets upright he buckles, the water Sana made him drink ending up in a puddle on the concrete. He hears Even swear, and he mumbles an apology.

They’re in a car next, only Even and him. He’s pressed as close to the older boy as he can get, his head tucked into the crook of his neck. His skin feels cold against Isak’s.

He closes his eyes, and when they open again he’s in an uncomfortable bed, a needle in his arm. His vision is slightly blurry but he can see Even’s form in the chair by his bed. Even must’ve noticed his bleary blinking because he immediately reaches out to take Isak’s hand gently in his own.

“How’re you feeling?” Even asks softly. Isak pauses for a minute before answering, taking stock of his body. 

“Mmm,” he hums instead of formulating a proper response. He feels like shit. Everything feels like shit. He doesn’t want Even to feel like shit as well. 

“No, for real Is,” Even says, his eyes squinting in the way that Isak knows means he’s serious. “I...I...I need to know. It...I can’t,” Even stutters out. Isak hasn’t seen him this shaken in...possibly ever. 

“I’m ok. I’m alright, really.” Even sighs, running his thumb over Isak’s cheek. “Wh...What happened?”

“How much do you remember?”

“Uh…” He tries to get something - anything, really - out of his foggy mess of a mind but he comes up short. “I was in chem? Feeling shitty. Now...I’m here.”

“You passed out, then Sana dragged you outside and tried to call me but we were in the middle of shooting, so the intern wouldn’t let her talk to me, until the director stopped the shoot because the intern was fucking up the audio track and had to explain it was because ‘the PA’s girlfriend wants to see him,’ and luckily the director fucking likes me so he let me explain the situation, which was awkward as hell but luckily he understood, and then I booked it over to the uni, where you immediately threw up. Then I called a cab and we went to the hospital and we waited for...an hour in the lobby before they actually saw you and you got admitted and now...you’ve been asleep for 11 hours. And I’ve been...scared shitless. The entire time,” he finishes, finally seeming to catch his breath. He’s clearly exhausted, Isak doubts he slept at all.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, though it doesn’t quite convey the amount of guilt that’s built up in his chest. It almost aches.

“Just don’t do it again, ok?” Isak nods weakly and Even kisses his forehead. God, Isak loves those lips. He wants Even next to him, right now, his head tucked against the older boy’s chest like they used to sleep back in their first apartment. So close. Always close. “I knew...I knew you’d be ok. I just…” Even takes a deep breath. “You shouldn’t have to feel like this. Be so sick. Plus, you could’ve fallen down a flight of stairs or something. Walked into traffic. Then what would I do?” He teases gently, but Isak doesn’t feel any better.

“You’d be ok.” Even frowns.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“You were going to work today anyway, I -” Isak doesn’t know why he wants to bring this up. Make this into a fight. Maybe he just wants Even to get mad. Yell at him. The guilty feeling in his chest knows it’s what he deserves.

“No, I was going out to pick up food because we had nothing in the fridge. Then after you decided to fuck yourself over I figured I might as well just go to work.” He sighs again. “It doesn’t matter. Sana told me the exam was worth a lot of points?” 

“Yeah. And every exam we miss is a half letter grade off. No redos.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry, that must just make this whole thing worse.”

“My grade’s probably worse now than it would be if I just didn’t take it in the first place.”

“I’m sure it’s not, Is,” Even says, shaking his head softly, but Isak just frowns. Even doesn’t seem to get it. His body has failed him. He has failed. He thought he could do it but he can’t. And now Even is sitting here sleep deprived and worried and irritated all because of his shitty decision making.

“You should go home. I’ll be fine for a little while.”

“I’m not leaving you here. Out of the question. Completely.”

“Do you know when they’ll let me out?” The sooner Isak gets out of here the sooner Even can get some sleep, and that’s all he really cares about at this point. Making it up to Even.

“They said as soon as your fever got below...40, I think it was?” There’s no way that’s right. Isak wasn’t _that_ ill. Then again, he was apparently sick enough to get admitted to a hospital in the first place.

“Faen.”

“I know. I’m surprised you got as far as you did running a fever that high. If I wasn’t so worried I’d be impressed.” They’re both quiet for a moment while Even runs his fingers through Isak’s slightly damp hair. “They said it’s really important you stay hydrated. Once we get back home. And just to make it extra clear, we’re both staying home tomorrow, alright?” Isak quirks a smile at that.

“Yeah, I figured.”

A nurse comes in, runs some quick tests, asks Isak how he’s feeling, and announces that she’ll bring in the discharge papers for him to sign.

“Already?” Even asks, and the nurse nods, leaving without another word.

A few hours later, in the cab back home, Isak can’t focus on anything other than the guilt. Even is disappointed in him. Mad at him, even. He won’t say it, won’t let it show, but it’s there. Isak knows it is.

Even practically carries him upstairs, for which Isak is extremely grateful as his legs currently feel like Jell-O. Once Even places him carefully on the bed, he goes into full-on caretaker mode.

Still, Isak knows his boyfriend must hate him. He tries not to think about it.

The first night back home is hell for both of them (at least Isak assumes). Isak can’t keep anything down for more than a half hour before it makes a reappearance in their toilet bowl and Even keeps having to coerce him into drinking “just a little bit, so you’re not so dizzy,” which Isak grows to resent more and more. The constant purging makes him irritable but for the most part, exhausted. He begs Even to just let him sleep on the bathroom floor but Even remains firm in his stance that he’ll feel better in bed, which he always does.

Most of the time is spent curled up shivering in Even’s arms, taking shaky sips of lukewarm water, trying not to let the pounding in his head drive him crazy. He must fall asleep that night because when he opens his eyes he’s lying alone in bed, a half-damp towel pressed haphazardly over his forehead, light streaming in through the blinds. He hears pacing from the hallway and a muffled voice.

“Jennifer said she could find a replacement for today, I’m...yes, I understand...Yeah...I promise after these few days it won’t happen again...I can work night shoots if you really need me to, I just have to...Oh, uh, he was really ill and he got admitted to the hospital overnight...Yeah, he’s alright, he’s just having a rough time…of course, how could you even ask me that?...Two more days and I swear I’ll be back...Yes...Ok, I’ll see you Thursday.”

Isak’s stomach rolls (and not for the reason it has been for the last few days). He’s hurting Even with his...neediness. Even might say it’s ok, but it’s not. He shouldn’t be giving up opportunities at work just for his boyfriend. That’s not cool. If Sana was...turning down research opportunities for Yousef...that would never happen...but if it did, Isak would be pissed...at both of them. 

Even peeks his head through the doorway.

“Hey, you just woke up?” He asks, and Isak nods. Even looks mildly relieved, probably hoping that Isak didn’t overhear the conversation. “I have some food if you’re up for it.”

He shakes his head and Even kisses his forehead carefully, and that alone almost makes all of Isak’s anxiety melt. Fuck, he loves Even so much.

“C’mere,” he mumbles, and Even gives a half smile.

“Into bed?” Isak nods and Even kisses him again, this time on the cheek. “We can cuddle in a minute, we’re gonna make sure you don’t die first.”

“Boring.” Even hands him a few ibuprofen which he swallows dry, and a glass of water, of which he only takes tiny sips. 

“No. More,” Even says, holding the glass out again.

“I’m going slow, don’t rush me,” he mumbles back, though he didn’t really have any plans for finishing it by any means.

“As long as you actually do this time. Remember when you tried to water the succulents last night? And I got to mop the floor?” Isak does not, in fact, remember, which probably speaks to how bad of a fever he’s running.

“What?”

“That was about three hours ago. So don’t blame me if I’m a little hesitant about trusting you with the water,” Even says. Isak looks over at the plants. They do look decidedly more...water saturated than they did when he last saw them. 

“How do you put up with me? I sound so annoying.”

“No, you’re not annoying. You’re sweet. Even when you’re telling me to fuck off because I don’t want you to sleep on the floor.”

“Christ.”

He ends up choking down some of the toast Even made, and unsurprisingly it comes back up less than an hour later. 

After Even’s gotten him settled back in bed, the younger boy tucked against his side, Isak feels the guilt start to bother him again.

“Why?” He asks the ceiling. Even shifts slightly, frowning.

“Why what?”

“Why do you...Why do you put up with me?”Isak asks. Even looks...sad? Confused. 

“Because you’re my...person. My only person. I love you. I want the best for you. You…”

“Stop. Stop...I just-” Isak starts. Even cuts him off.

“I’ll...put it in terms you’ll like…” Even says.

“Huh?” Isak asks. It’s his turn to be confused. 

“You...you make my crops...flourish. You make my skin clear.”

“Fuck off,” Isak says as soon as he realizes what’s going on. “If you’re mad at me, it’s ok. I’d be mad at me too. And if you -” He’s caught off guard by the start of a sob. “If you don’t want-”

“Stop it, Isak. I can’t... I love you. Ok? That’s it. That’s the end of it.”

“How can you be sure?” Isak asks hesitantly. Even huffs out a sigh.

“Isak. We’ve been dating for 4 years. Of course, I fucking love you.”

“I just...I wouldn’t love me.” He wouldn’t be saying any of this if he wasn’t half out of his mind at the moment, but he can’t stop the flood of words. 

“Isak…”Even says sadly. “That’s not…” he trails off. “You can’t see yourself. And...Well, how do you feel about me? What if this was reversed? Would you really hate me?”

“No.”

“Right, so, I love you too. I’ll never...I’d never break up with you because you were stubborn and landed yourself in the hospital. I know you’re stubborn. And I love you anyway. I’ll always love you.”

For the first time in a while, Isak really feels safe. Deep down, right to the pit of his stomach where all his anxiety lives. Even loves him. Even wants him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send us prompts [HERE](http://poeandbeaux.tumblr.com/ask)  
> [Chloe’s tumblr](http://chloebeaux.tumblr.com)!  
> [Priscilla’s tumblr ](http://boxesofflowers.tumblr.com)!  
> 


	2. Epilogue

Isak’s immune system wants him to suffer. That’s the only possible explanation for any of this. Only a month has passed since he was LITERALLY HOSPITALIZED for what amounted to ‘a bad cold with flu-like symptoms’. Like...what the fuck? And now? Back in the grip of another health event. 

“–for this stomach bug,” the doctor finishes saying. Even is nodding along, taking notes on a scrap of paper. 

“Should we check in with you again?” He asks after he finishes jotting down whatever it was that the doctor had just told them. The doctor shakes her head. 

“Only if it gets significantly worse. You were right to come in for the IV drip for hydration because it’s been a couple of days, but Isak shouldn’t need any other treatment. If it persists for much longer you might also want to come in.”

Even nods. 

“Thanks,” Isak says quickly as the doctor begins to leave the room. Once she closes the door, Even leans over and gives him a lingering kiss on the cheek. Isak smiles. “You’re such a nerd.”

“I’m not a nerd, I just love my boyfriend.”

“I know you’re going to say it’s fine but I’m sorry.”

“It is fine. Don’t apologize for being sick.”

“I know. Just...don’t think I don’t appreciate it. Because I do.”

“I’m just...glad,” he says, and Isak pouts. “No! Not because you’re sick, because you let me…” He trails off, and Isak hugs him tight, his face buried in the crook of Even’s neck.

“It’s nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send us prompts [HERE](http://poeandbeaux.tumblr.com/ask)  
> [Chloe’s tumblr](http://chloebeaux.tumblr.com)!  
> [Priscilla’s tumblr ](http://boxesofflowers.tumblr.com)!  
> 


End file.
